#it took me 2 and a half hours to get there

[kabr0ztrousers]

Kabr0z Writes Episode 7: The Rowing Team

Find the Contents page Here

CWs: noncon; intox; alcohol intox; substance intox; group sex; impregnation; foreshadowing; fem!reader having a very bad time

Author's note: The poll in the last episode has about a half hour left on it as I start this, and so far all votes are for "No limits, make it uncomfortable" So we're doing a noncon scenario today. You filthy, filthy animals, I love you all 🤍

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You might have pregamed a little hard. By the time you got to the party you could already feel yourself swaying a little. You shook yourself and went inside. What was freshers week for but drinking irresponsible amounts of alcohol and going to flat parties, after all? You're still not used to this though, you only turned 18 in the last week of August, and still haven't had chance to build up the tolerance to alcohol some of your peers were sporting as they swigged from bottles of cheap vodka, gin, and rum.

You made your way through the throng of people and into the lounge, the larger of the 2 common rooms in the flat. That's when you saw him, wearing a jacket sporting the rowing team logo. He was a catfolk, tall and limber, he didn't seem to be bulky enough to be a rower, maybe he was the Cox?

He saw you, and locked eyes across the room. His gaze dazzled you, a deer in his headlamps, transfixed. He strode over, prowling through the crowd that parted before him

"Hey, I'm Miles" He thrust a cup into your hand "What can I call you?"

You told him your name, and took a sip. It was a kind of beer, slightly bitter and fizzy on your tongue.

"Cute name!" You could see his sharp teeth as he laughed.

He was magnetic. Tall, slim, not to mention charming. It felt like you'd only just finished your drink before he grabbed you another, some sort of cocktail this time.

He pulled out a baggie containing several brightly coloured lozenges "Something to take the edge off, you want one?"

You shook your head, noticeably swaying as more of the beer reached your head.

Miles shrugged and put one in his mouth, washing it down with the dregs of his drink and got up, grabbing your hand as he did "Come on, let me introduce you to the team"

You felt light and heavy, all at once. Your head swam as you got up and you hung on to Miles' arm as he led you upstairs to another flat, out of the pounding music and commotion of the party.

Every step you took, you could feel yourself getting heavier, your limbs getting clumsier. You were stumbling, but he kept a hand on your back as he led you. In the half-light up here you could only make out his eyes against his brownish tabby fur, narrowed slits of reflected light

He opened his flat door and pushed you inside ahead of him, then brought you through to the lounge. A group of four over large, predatory males lounged around on the threadbare sofas. They turned to look at the fresh meat their friend had brought them.

"Miles, you came through!" A big grey wolf barked out

"She even legal?" Another wolf, this one mottled brown

Miles threw your drivers license at them in response, did you give him that?

A tiger catfolk caught it, inspecting it in the fluorescent light and laughed "Ha! Barely! But when have you cared about legal, Lance?"

The mottled wolf laughed "She sure looks like you worked your magic on her, cap"

Miles pushed you. You stumbled a step before your legs gave out and you fell bodily onto a table in front of you "Bitch didn't think to question why she was getting so many free drinks from the nice pussycat" he spat "Now we get to clear her tab"

The one that hadn't spoken yet, a powerfully built lizardman looked into your eyes "What you dose her with?"

"The usual" you could hear Miles doing something behind you, you tried to look but you couldn't turn your head "A little of this, a little of that"

Laughs all round. You tried to speak, to ask what's happening. You yelled. You screamed. All that came out were soft moans.

"Looks ready to me" the lizard's long forked tongue darted out, and he stood up. He started to undress. You realised what Miles and the others were doing.

The lizard pulled off his sweatpants and revealed his genital slit. You could feel the rest of them manhandling you, pulling off your jeans and underwear, tearing open your shirt and opening your bra before on Miles' count you were flipped over on the table.

Paralysed.

Exposed.

You could feel your limbs lying uselessly off the table as you saw it in front of you, the lizard's hemipene rising from the slot between his loins, long and thick, clubbed at the end.

A scaled hand squeezed your jaw, forcing your mouth open as the others watched. The lizard pushed the obscene shape past your lips, then teeth, until it was resting in your mouth.

He straightened up your head, lining you up. "Let the game..." He thrust, pushing straight past the back of your throat. "Begin!"

All at once five sets of hands were on you, accompanied by mouths and animalistic cocks. Rubbing at every part of you. Licking your pussy. Groping your tits. Toying with your asshole. Spurting hot jets of precum onto your naked skin.

The lizard kept fucking your throat pulling out occasionally so you could take a gasp of air. You could feel your pussy getting hotter and wetter despite you, preparing itself.

The lizard pulled out. The grey wolf took his place. The lizard started working on you as the rest had, and everyone moved over a step, except Miles.

Miles was busy with your pussy, licking his rough feline tongue over the whole of it, taking special care around the clit and keeping you just on the edge of orgasm.

Then he pulled away. You felt soft fur between your thighs, but no whiskers now.

Then a pressure. "Seems like she's ready boys, I'll take first go, seeing as she's my catch"

Miles pushed himself inside you. You couldn't scream. With the huge canine cock in your mouth you could barely breathe around the thick shaft and the precum oozing out from your lips and down your throat.

You could feel why some people liked felines, and why most didn't. His entire shaft was patterned with sharp points that scraped inside you as he fucked in and out. Every point hurt. Every one drove you closer and closer to the edge.

Then it happened. You could feel yourself start to pulse against his shaft. Squeezing it. Clenching around it. Miles' thrusts got faster. More desperate. He pushed in. You could feel his balls tighten against your asscheecks. His tip was nudging your cervix, pumping rope after rope into your womb.

A chill went down your spine. You're not sure why

Then they changed position.

Miles and Lance lifted you upright and held you over the table as the lizard and the wolf that was in your mouth got below you. They lined their cocks up against your asshole and your cunt as you were lowered onto them. You could feel the bulbous lizard-dick stretching your ass as the blunt wolf cock invaded your pussy.

The lizard grabbed you around your waist and pulled you on top of him "Erik's gonna fuck you silly, and I've got dibs on your sweet ass" he hissed into your ear.

You could barely hear him. Your head lolled madly and your arms flailed with the power of the wolf's thrusts. The tiger grabbed each side of your head and started using your mouth as Miles and Lance suckled on each of your tits.

The wolf cock was smoother, but bigger. Stretching rather than scratching. Milo's cum was mixing with Erik's pre and filling the room with a slapping sound as it lubricated you. The feeling of two cocks in you was too much. You could feel them rubbing against one another, frotting inside you like you were nothing more than a toy.

Because that's what you were. A toy.

Erik grunted as you crested your second orgasm and pushed in harder. His thick knot slapped against your hole again and again until it jammed in. His cock was held against the neck of your womb, filling you more and more.

What are you forgetting?

Erik worked his knot free. You would've cried out but you still couldn't make a sound other than lewd moaning, and the slap, slap, slapping of the tiger's balls against your chin.

The tiger's turn next, and Miles' cock entered your mouth, still sticky with both of your cum.

The tiger's cock went in easily, Erik's knot had left you gaping when he pulled it unceremoniously out, but it was the worst of both. It felt as thick as your arm, and the barbs were bigger on it. You moaned on each pull, as the thorns caught your labia and he quickly rubbed your clit with a thumb. He looked up at Milo and nodded, before they both pushed into you. You felt the sharp spines of Miles' cock at the back of your throat and tasted blood and cum as he pumped a load down your abused gullet. The tiger grunted and groaned as he too filled you up.

Something scared you more than the predators using your body

You could feel a mixture of cum running down your ass, lubricating the lizard who somehow still hadn't finished in you.

Then it was Lance's turn. He pushed his cock into your face first. Making sure you could smell the musk from his sheath and his balls. You could feel the heat of it as it painted your face in precum. Then he went for it. He didn't pause like the others. He just pumped into you. Faster and faster. You could feel yourself trying to twitch and shake but it never did. Your mouth now full of Erik again, fucking down into your coated throat and filling your belly with precum.

Lance didn't last long. The lubricant from his friends. The pulsing and clenching of your pussy. He pushed his knot in. It felt even bigger than Erik's.

He was filling you up again. You could feel the lizard finally doing the same to your behind. This time the wolf wasn't in any hurry to pull out.

You've forgotten something important

Lance kept his knot in you for at least the next half hour. Every time it felt like it was going down one of his friends would cum down your throat, on your face, on your tits, and he'd harden back up.

Eventually they got worn out, or bored of their new toy. Lance slipped out and a great gout of thick cum went with him. They dressed you in some pyjamas and took you down into the dead of the cold autumn night.

That was six weeks ago.

You're doing well at your studies. Keeping up well with the class, though first year's always the easiest they say. You're waiting in the pharmacy, you're not the most regular person in the world, and you're in a 2-month dry spell, but it never hurts.

You leave with a small box

Later that afternoon, you're sat on the toilet in your room, watching the slip of plastic you just peed on. The other one discarded at your feet. It must have been a false positive, they happen, right?

Right?

[superficialdomina]

Down Under - Part 2

Word count: 2.1k

Part 2 Warnings: 18+; minors DNI. Loki thirst. Aussie slang. A big lizard. Language. Reckon that's about it.

Part 1

Series masterlist

Image credit

Part 2

The SHIELD operative who’d been sent to guide you into Hall’s Gap found you an hour after dawn, as you were packing up camp – just appeared out of the bush like Waltzing Matilda’s ghost, wearing an ancient cork hat and carrying a walking stick taller than she was.

Bruce offered her his hand. “Bruce,” he said. “Thanks for meeting us.”

“Aah, Dr Banner!” she said in a broad Australian accent, enthusiastically shaking his hand. “Great to finally put a face to ya name! Call me Ray,” she added, smiling widely as she nodded at the rest of you.

Thor – who was imposingly dressed in full battle attire, his red cape fluttering in the morning breeze – took her hand and kissed it magnanimously. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ray.”

Ray looked horrified as she pulled her hand out of his meaty grip, and Thor’s face fell as she wiped it on her shorts. “That what yer wearing, mate? Ya might get a bit warm.” You saw Loki hide a grin behind his hand.

“Ah - what happened to Agent Herriman?” Banner cut in before Thor could respond.

“Ol’ Jack? Crook, mate. Laid up down in Ballarat.”

Banner looked to you, and you realised he was waiting for a translation.

“Oh – he’s sick,” you supplied, distracted. You turned to Ray. “He doesn’t have this – this new infection, does he?”

“The horny bug?” She shook her corks to clear a swarm of flies that had gathered. “Nah, got the ‘rona.” She was still eyeing Thor as though he were a serious threat. “We ready to hit the frog n toad?”

“Just one more thing,” Banner said, pulling a series of small plastic cannisters from his pack and passing them around. “Antifungals. Take one every 12 hours. If you do get exposed, these should protect you.”

“Assuming it’s a fungus,” you added pointedly.

“Assuming it’s a fungus,” Banner agreed. “You too, Ray.”

Ray took the small bottle sceptically, stashing it somewhere in her myriad of cargo pockets. “Righto. Watch out for snakes.”

You left the campsite in single file, Ray in the lead. The climb wasn’t especially steep, but it was steady, with no undulation to offer respite to your burning calves. The bright summer sun quickly turned the warm morning into a swelteringly hot day, and your pack, filled with standard camping gear and an extensive list of SHIELD tech equipment, was heavy. You shifted uncomfortably at the sweat that had gathered between it and your skin, the damp spreading through your shirt.

You glanced up at Thor, ahead of you on the trail, still ridiculously dressed in battle leathers. They must be finding this heat brutal, you thought.

There was a scoffing sound behind you, and you realised the branch you’d just pushed past had flung back to nick Loki square in the face.

“Oh - sorry,” you said quickly, grimacing at the angry red mark across his eyebrow.

“I should be more careful,” Loki said acidly. He wiped his forehead, leaving a dusty, sweaty smear, but he didn’t complain further.

If Loki was handling the conditions with stoicism, Thor was more than making up for his silence. His face was bright red, and sweat poured from every conceivable inch of skin. He had begun using the corner of his cape to wipe his brow, and it was now a murky, rusty brown colour. At least he’s getting some use out of it, you thought wryly.

“Gah! These infernal flying creatures will be the death of me!” he bellowed, arms flailing at a cloud of bush flies.  “Why must they congregate in the immediate vicinity of my face?! Aargh!” he spluttered, voice raised an octave, dramatically forcing air out his nose. “One of them has just flown up my nostril!”

“Supposed to be good luck,” Ray called back seriously, “’specially if it comes back out ya mouth.” Thor made a gagging noise; Ray didn’t seem to hear him. “There’s water in about half a k; we’ll stop there for smoko.”

“What is "smoko”?” Loki asked, as you carefully passed him the next cleared branch.

“Um - morning tea?” you replied. You swallowed as his long fingers took the branch from you; you weren’t often this close to him, and his lean body was distractingly luscious. Fuck, he really does look good in hiking gear.

There was another yelp from Thor, who had mistaken the snap of a stick underfoot for the strike of a snake.

“It’s the scorpions you’ve got to watch out for,” Ray added, not pausing in her climb up the overgrown track. “At least a snake’ll let you know it’s there.”

Thor’s mouth hung open as he stared after her.

Hall’s Gap was nestled into a long, flat gully between two mountain ranges, with a lake at one end and a steep climb out of the valley at the other. When the five of you arrived in the late afternoon, you quickly set up a small base camp a short distance from the lake edge, in the long shadow of a high rocky outcrop known as Sundial Peak.

You washed briefly in the cool water, rinsing away the sweat and grime of the day’s hike. It was all so… familiar. Feelings you had pushed aside all day came rushing back. Memories of the last time you had stood in the Australian bush, your back turned to your family home after another long, drawn-out argument with your conservative, narrow-minded father. Tears streaming down your face as you decided it was time to pack up and leave for good.

That was years ago. You can’t step in the same river twice, you reminded yourself. You were not the same person who had walked away from them that day.

Somewhat cleansed – literally and metaphorically – you made your way back to camp. A squawk from a large eucalypt announced your arrival; Thor ducked dramatically, covering his head with his hands.

“Gads! What the Devil is that noise?!”

“What – you mean the cockatoo?” you asked, puzzled. “That squawking?”

“Cock or… Two?”

Before you could correct him, Ray also returned, a very large, very dead goanna heaved across her shoulders. She slung it to the ground in a single, fluid movement. Thor saw the flick of its tail out of the corner of his eye and gave a high-pitched yell.

“It’s dead, you buffoon,” Loki sneered at him, “and it has legs.”

Ray grinned. “Caught him scurrying up a red gum.”

Your eyes were wide with hunger and glee. “They’re meant to taste really good!”

She gave a comical double-raise of her eyebrows. “Once that fire’s got some decent coals under it, we’ll get ‘im cooking.”

Later, as you all licked charred remnants of the oily white meat from your fingers, you made plans for the following day. Bruce picked up his cell phone and waved it around hopefully.

“Won’t get any signal up here, mate,” Ray said, as she casually carved a goanna rib-bone into a fishing hook.

 “In that case,” Banner muttered, giving up on his phone reception, “I guess we do this the old-fashioned way.” He pulled out of his pack a large, paper map, and smoothed it on the ground.

“We’ll split up tomorrow. Thor and I will go into town and see what we can learn. If we’re lucky, I’ll find some unlucky bastard who’s dead enough to give up an infected brain sample. You two,” he glanced up at you and Loki, “will head into the national park to look for signs of Hydra. Ray will wait here for us and keep an eye on –”

“Fuck off,” Ray laughed, then realised Banner wasn’t joking. “Begging ya pardon, Doc, but if you think I’m waiting around here like an arsehole, yer dreaming.” She pointed her sharpened bone in the direction of town. “I’m coming with you.”

“Ah,” Banner hesitated. “Um, alright. I guess Ray’s coming with us.” He looked at you again. “Everyone back at camp by dark. If you don’t find anything, we can continue Thursday. If you do find something, stay in touch with the satellite radio. Apparently,” he added dryly, “there’s no cell service up here.”

Ray threw her head back and cackled with laughter.

You reached the summit of the Sundial by mid-morning. Dropping your day pack, you sucked down a large swig of water, then looked back at Loki below you on the trail. His hair was pulled into a low bun, that goddamn Akubra slung low over his eyes. It was, admittedly, sexy as fuck.

“Are you OK, Loki?” you asked as he neared you. It was reaching the hottest part of the day, and you were pretty certain that Norse Gods weren’t meant to be out in this kind of weather.

“Fine,” Loki snapped. His face was pink, and grimy with a combination of sweat and dust. At your small recoil, he softened. “I’m fine. Just... Hot.” He reached the uneven spread of rock you were standing on, and looked out across the valley, where the outcrop’s finger-like shadow fell over the smattering of houses far below.

“It’s pretty exposed up here. We should keep heading down and find some shade.”

“A moment,” Loki said, turning to look down over the other side of the crest. “How far are we from SHEILD’s first suggested location?”

You pulled out Banner’s tightly folded map. “We’re… Here.” You pointed to the little triangle marking the summit. “And Stark’s algorithm predicted these,” your finger passed over a small cross etched in red pen, “as possible Hydra sites. This is the closest one.” Loki peered at the little markings, then out across the landscape again.

“I am correct that the first of them should be in the next valley?” He pointed.

“Um…” Maybe? “Yeah, I think so.” You looked again at the worn paper. “At any rate, there’s probably water there. Give you – ah, us – a chance to cool down.”

You continued along the steep trail, descending now, watching your step in the uneven terrain. To the right of the track was a sheer drop; a misstep could send you on a severe short-cut to the creek at the bottom of the valley.

Loki must have stumbled behind you; you were briefly showered in loose scree and rock that had caught on his boot. You were about to ask him again if he was alright, when you heard it – running water. No, not running, you realised excitedly. Falling.

Another 300 metres, and the two of you stood at the foot of a roaring waterfall.

“Well,” Loki said, delightedly throwing his hat to the ground. “Shall we?”

Before you could answer, his long legs were carrying him to the water’s edge, a shimmer of seiðr peeling away his clothing as he went. Naked, he slid into the deep pool and dipped under the water.

Holy shit. It was only a second’s glance, but it was an image that you were certain would remain with you for a lifetime. The God of Mischief’s long, broad back and perfect, muscular ass, flexing as he strode away from you before it vanished under the surface. Holy shit.

You freed yourself from your own gear and waded in, gasping as you did. Unlike the Asgardian prince, you had opted to keep your underwear on, but the flimsy fabric did nothing to dull the slice of the cold. You knew the secret to quick acclimation, however, and with a hasty three, two, one, you ducked your head under the surface. When you reemerged, Loki was nowhere to be seen.

A short swim brought you to the foot of the falls. This close, the sound of it drowned out everything else; no birdsong, no insect buzz, no gentle wind through the treetops. Just the eternal roar of water crashing into the plunge pool. Even the force of it splattering your face was secondary. Behind it, the undercutting formed a dark, cavernous chamber, isolated from the world by the endless curtain of falling water, its sound muffled by its reflection off the rock face. The pool itself was deep – you couldn’t touch the stony bottom – and the rock was sheer, with wet striations reaching upwards to an uneven overhang way above. The seclusion was almost eerie.

“Fuck!” You jumped as something wrapped around your ankle in the dark water, before Loki’s mischievous grin emerged. “Jesus Christ, Loki!”

“Just ‘Loki’ will do,” he smirked. Does what it says on the tin, you thought grudgingly, eyeing him. His bun was gone; his wet hair was slicked back from his glistening face, fanning out over the pool and his bare, pale shoulders. His sculpted, naked body was only inches away from you under the water; you tried desperately to think about anything else.

“Good news, Agent,” Loki continued, still with that shit-eating grin. “I found a cave.”

Part 3

Tags in comments xx

[astradyke]

please never stop talking about loverboy phil

anon i do everything for you

thinking abt how phil was there when dan dropped out of law school. thinking abt how phil argued to bring dan on the jamaica trip that dan was not supposed to be on originally so phil could be with him. thinking about how dan comes to the lesters for the holidays, "tagged along to a lester thing", how dan came to phil's family home and how phil's family accepted dan with open arms. how hyper and annoying dan is in some of the younger era videos (like old cooking videos, the tree etc) and how it makes phil smile. how phil bought him a tonberry and bought him that fancy candle and won him a plush from a claw machine. how phil keeps bringing up dan's solo work not even just in the videos focused on them (think haircut vid, dan is leaving me, etc) but in all other videos-- like dan's book kept getting brought up by phil. an underrated moment in wdapteo 2 that i think about CONSTANTLY is the fact that at the end phil plugs some of dan's merch too and does his little smile as he does. "for treating us with your presence". how in the date night video when asked what animal dan would be phil immediately went with bear. wdapteo 3 where phil is wearing one of dan's viewers pick my outfit sweaters, and how we would see years later that phil took like 100 silly photos of dan in the minion fit from that video (which proves my belief that half of phil's camera roll is just dan). how dan walks faster and ahead of phil but phil takes photos while dan is walking like the one in türkiye. how phil made him spaghetti when he was ill. how constantly phil talks about dan needing to wear color. him hyping up gay but not proud (and also BEING in gay but not proud). him being in the audience of dan's one off comedy routine about being gay. him being in the we're all doomed audience. him probably being dan's first subscriber. love eyes lester which is SO LETHAL it's so lethal. how dan will ramble and get annoyed at phil and phil will just giggle and laugh. phil playing with dan's hair. "you > everyone in the universe." the recent press the button video where phil said (when given the option to live forever alongside all of his now immortal loved ones) that dan would be immortal. "i haven't seen you for 10 hours i wanted to tell you about my lexicon". texting dan nonsense in wdapteo 4 for 3 days straight and not receiving a reply and pouting about it. taking the photo outside his window when dan asked to see if he could see him. being endlessly the no.1 sister daniel fan, accepting dan's experimentation with sister daniel relentlessly. there's so many more. there's so many more.

i'm really normal about htis by the way.

[rcmclachlan]

2024 Tumblr Top 10

Tagged by the wonderful @liminalmemories21

How it works: Share your top 10 tumblr posts from last year! Visit this site, scroll down to "Find your Tumblr Top 10," type in your username, and select 2024. When you get the results, simply click "Share to Tumblr" and you'll get an auto-generated draft for a post with links and previews. Make any adjustments you see fit.

Surprising no one, all my top posts in 2024 were about BuckTommy. Here’s the breakdown:

1. Tommy’s just as insane as Buck (1,184 notes - Aug 15 2024)

This is probably my favorite post of the year, so I’m glad it’s sitting pretty at number one. Even after what we’ve learned about Tommy since I posted it, I still stand by it. There is no way Mr. Sure I’ll Fly Into A Hurricane On A Hunch is normal about anything.

2. Amnion (mpreg, 8x06 fix-it) (777 notes - Nov 9 2024)

This predated the mpreg tsunami that hit the fandom by about a week, but if you’ve been following me since April, you’ll know that dadvans and I had been surfing that wave all along. 

3. Season 4 alternate meeting (726 notes - Aug 10 2024)

I’ve got a list as long as my arm of ways Buck and Tommy could’ve met earlier, but the idea of “what if their paths crossed the day Buck learns about Daniel” grabbed onto my ankle like a mutant west highland white terrier and wouldn’t let go. 

It eventually became the fic Histocompatibility on AO3.

4. 8x05 spec fic ("Kiss me, Thomas!”) (704 notes - Oct 23 2024)

I wrote this after the first pictures of Buck’s face dropped a couple of days before the episode aired. At the time, we could only see one boil (I think the most popular theory was that a spider had laid eggs in his face, a la Scary Stories To Tell In The Dark), so I decided to have a little fun. 

Apologies to the people who were scarred for life after learning what a giant weta is. 

5. The 118-217 Shadow Summit headcanon (665 notes - Dec 29 2024)

A very late addition to the list! There I was with all these headcanons, still mourning the breakup and wishing the show had given us some cross-station shenanigans, when I realized I could solve all my problems with fic. Why would I try to get Buck and Tommy back together when the yahoos at the 118 and 217 could do it for me?

Then I took it a step further with this missing scene, which I had an absolute blast writing. These people are bonkers (to me).

6. “So? Tell me about the hot pilot.” (652 notes - Sep 13 2024)

I can never get enough of the Buckley siblings, and since the show finally gave us something substantial with 7x05, I decided to delve a little deeper into Buck and Maddie’s conversation about Buck’s bisexuality and the man responsible for opening his eyes to it. 

It eventually became the fic Table of Contents on AO3.

7. New Year’s Eve fix-it ficlet (651 notes - Jan 1 2025)

Okay, technically it shouldn’t be on the list because I posted it in the new year, but I wrote it a couple of hours before midnight while watching Wicked with friends, so I’m including it. It was a half-baked idea that became a half-baked fic, but it seemed like people enjoyed it, so I’m taking that energy into the new year!

8. More 8x05 spec fic (missing scene) (589 notes - Oct 24 2024)

Another fic that was born out of the episode previews, which allowed me to bring my 217 OCs out to play. All I kept thinking was, ‘What was going through these people’s heads when they heard dispatch say a body had been found at the 118? Probably something along the lines of: must be Tuesday.’ 

9. Pregnancy kink ficlet/headcanon (526 notes - Aug 29 2024)

No explanation necessary. 

10. Relative Value (499 notes - Jun 26 2024)

“Give me Uncle Tommy or give me death” has been my mantra since Tommy and Buck made out in front of God, country, and the entire First Presbyterian ER lobby. Also, it’s a headcanon of mine that all the 118 kids are obsessed with him, much to Tommy’s confusion and amusement. 

It eventually became Relative Value on AO3.

Well, this was a fun little retrospective! I can’t believe this dumb show pushed me out of writer’s block limbo as hard as it did, but I’m very grateful. 

Tagging: @dadvans, @screamlet, @epiphainie, @leashybebes, and @beanarie​​

[scrollonso]

Cinnamon — Strollonso (2) (prev)

After hours of enduring his friends' teasing and half-hearted attempts at studying, Lance finally found an excuse to slip away. The air outside the study hall was cool and crisp, a welcome relief from the stuffy room. He shoved his hands into his MIT-branded jacket pockets and took a deep breath, his mind swirling with thoughts of Fernando — though they should've been swirling with thoughts of his meche final project due by the end of the month.

He hadn’t even made it halfway down the dimly lit corridor when he spotted him.

Fernando was leaned casually against the wall, phone in hand as his bag of teaching supplies at his feet, as though he’d been waiting there all along. His dark eyes sparkled with amusement when they locked on Lance.

“Studying hard?” Fernando asked, his voice low and smooth, sending a shiver down Lance’s spine.

Lance stopped in his tracks, his heart pounding. “You could say that.”

Fernando pushed off the wall, walking toward him with slow, deliberate steps. Lance’s pulse quickened with every step Fernando took. There was something about the way he moved — confident, sure of himself — that made it impossible to look away.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” Lance murmured, his voice quieter than he intended. "I figured professors went home pretty early."

“I was hoping to run into you.” Fernando’s lips curved into a smirk. “Thought you might need a ride home.”

Lance blinked. “You… what?”

Fernando shrugged. “It’s late. Thought it might be safer.”

Safe. Lance swallowed hard. Nothing about being near Fernando felt safe — it felt exhilarating, electric, dangerous.

“I don’t think my dad would love that idea,” Lance said, though he didn’t make any move to decline the offer. Lawrence had known Fernando for decades — from their shared classes in university, from business dealings, from god knows where else. Lance could only imagine his father’s reaction if he found out his son was falling for the man he’d once called a friend.

But right now, Lance couldn’t bring himself to care.

Fernando chuckled, the sound warm and teasing. “Are you worried about what your father would say? Or are you worried about what you want?”

Lance bit his lip, his gaze flickering to Fernando’s mouth. “I don’t—”

“Come on, Lance.” Fernando said softly, tilting his head toward the door. “I’ll take you home.”

Lance hesitated for only a second before nodding. “Okay.”

They walked out into the night, and Lance found himself acutely aware of how close Fernando was — his arm brushing against Lance’s, the scent of his cologne lingering in the air. By the time they reached Fernando’s car — Fernando's white Mustang — Lance’s chest felt like it might explode.

As Fernando opened the passenger door for him, Lance paused. “Why are you doing this?”

Fernando leaned closer, his gaze locking onto Lance’s. “Because I care for my students, do you wish for me to have ulterior motives?”

Lance’s breath caught in his throat. The words hung between them, heavy with unspoken possibilities.

“Get in,” Fernando whispered.

Lance slid into the car, his heart pounding like a drumbeat in his ears. Fernando circled around to the driver’s side, and as he started the engine, Lance couldn’t tear his eyes away from him.

The drive was quiet, the tension between them palpable. Lance’s fingers curled into fists on his lap, his mind racing with everything he wanted to say — everything he wanted to do.

When Fernando finally pulled up outside the Strulovich home, neither of them moved to get out.

“Lance,” Fernando said softly, his voice laced with something vulnerable.

Lance turned to him, his heart hammering in his chest. “Yes, sir?”

Fernando’s gaze dropped to Lance’s lips. “I’m trying to be good.”

“Don’t,” Lance whispered, his voice barely audible.

That was all it took.

Fernando closed the distance between them, his hand cupping Lance’s cheek as he kissed him — slow, deliberate, and devastatingly gentle. Lance melted into the kiss, his hands tangling in Fernando’s hair as every thought about his father, about what was right or wrong, about what he believed was ethical, faded away.

All that mattered was this moment.

Fernando's lips moved against his with an aching softness, like he had all the time in the world. It wasn’t rushed or hurried, and that made it all the more overwhelming. Lance clung to him, fingers tightening in Fernando’s subtle curls, pulling him closer.

Fernando sighed into the kiss, his thumb stroking Lance’s cheekbone, grounding him. The world outside the car fell away — the late-night traffic, the shadows of the streetlights, the distant sound of footsteps on the sidewalk. None of it mattered.

When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathing hard. Fernando’s forehead rested against Lance’s, and for a moment, neither of them said anything.

Silence settled over them again, but it was warm, comfortable. Lance traced the curve of Fernando’s jaw with his fingers, marveling at how natural this felt.

“I don’t know how we’re going to do this,” Lance admitted, his voice quiet. “My dad—”

"Lawrence doesn’t scare me,” Fernando interrupted, his tone firm but gentle. “This… you… it’s worth the risk.”

Lance’s chest tightened at those words. He’d spent so much of his life under his father’s shadow, constantly trying to live up to expectations. But with Fernando, everything felt different — he almost felt ridiculous but he couldn't help but be reassured by the older man's presence.

“I want this,” Lance whispered. “I don’t care what anyone says.”

Fernando smiled, leaning in to kiss him again — softer this time, more lingering. “Good.”

The sound of a car passing by broke the moment, and Lance pulled back, glancing out the window. His nerves prickled with the realization of where they were.

“Do you want to come inside?” Lance asked, his voice trembling slightly.

Fernando studied him for a long moment, his gaze intense. “Are you sure?”

Lance nodded. “Yeah. I’m sure.”

Fernando turned off the engine and got out of the car, waiting for Lance to join him on the sidewalk. As they walked toward the building, Lance’s hand brushed against Fernando’s. After a brief hesitation, Fernando took it, intertwining their fingers.

The gesture sent a thrill through Lance, but it also filled him with a strange sense of calm.

As they stepped inside the house, Lance couldn’t shake the feeling that he was standing on the edge of something life-changing.

Fernando glanced around the space, then turned to Lance, his expression softening. “You’re nervous.”

“A little.”

Fernando’s hands slid around Lance’s waist, pulling him close. “You don’t have to be.”

Lance looked up at him, his heart in his throat. “I’m not scared of you.”

Fernando’s eyes darkened with emotion. “Good.”

Fernando’s lips pressed softly against Lance’s, coaxing him into a kiss that felt both tender and consuming. Lance melted into it, his hands sliding up to grip Fernando’s shoulders, pulling him closer. Every thought, every doubt melted away under Fernando’s touch.

Without breaking the kiss, Fernando walked Lance backward, their steps slow and unsteady as they moved through the house. Lance’s fingers tangled in Fernando’s hair again, pulling him down deeper into the kiss, as if he couldn’t get enough.

They stumbled slightly near the stairs, Lance’s back hitting the wall with a soft thud. He let out a breathless laugh against Fernando’s lips, his cheeks flushed and eyes shining with something Fernando couldn’t quite put into words.

“You okay?” Fernando murmured, brushing a stray lock of hair from Lance’s face.

“Yea, yeah.” Lance’s voice was soft, but there was a glint of mischief in his gaze. “I’m more than okay.” He felt a rush of adreneline risking everything like this.

Fernando smirked, leaning in to kiss him again, slower this time — more deliberate. His hands slid down Lance’s sides, anchoring him in place as he kissed him deeply, like he was savoring every second.

Lance let out a soft sigh, his fingers trailing down Fernando’s chest, tugging at the hem of his jacket. “Upstairs?” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Fernando’s gaze flicked toward the staircase, then back to Lance. “Lead the way.”

Lance grabbed Fernando’s hand, lacing their fingers together as he guided him toward the stairs. Their footsteps were clumsy, their lips finding each other again and again as they moved. At the first step, Fernando pressed Lance against the railing, his hands on either side of him as he leaned in for another kiss — deeper, more urgent.

Lance let out a soft gasp, his head tilting back as Fernando’s lips trailed from his mouth to his jaw, then down his neck. His breath hitched, his hands fisting in Fernando’s shirt, pulling him closer.

“You’re gonna drive me crazy,” Lance murmured, his voice trembling.

Fernando chuckled against his skin. “Good.”

They stumbled up the stairs, laughter and soft gasps filling the air between kisses. Lance’s heart raced, his pulse thrumming in his ears as they reached the top of the staircase. By the time they made it to his bedroom door, his nerves had faded, replaced by a burning desire that left him breathless.

Lance pushed the door open, pulling Fernando inside. The room was dark, illuminated only by the soft glow of streetlights filtering through the curtains.

Fernando shut the door behind them, his gaze never leaving Lance. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice low, almost reverent.

Lance nodded, stepping closer until they were chest to chest. His fingers brushed over Fernando’s cheek, lingering at his jaw. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

The moment the words left his lips, Fernando surged forward, capturing Lance in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was hungry, desperate — a kiss that spoke of everything they'd been holding back. Lance stumbled slightly, but Fernando caught him, his hands firm on Lance's hips as they moved together with reckless urgency.

Lance's back hit a wall — again — the force knocking a framed picture of Lance with his father at his bar mitzvah askew, but neither of them cared. Fernando's lips were on his neck now, his teeth grazing sensitive skin, making Lance gasp as he fisted his hands into Fernando's hair, pulling him even closer.

"Bed," Lance managed to gasp out between kisses, his voice shaky with need.

Fernando pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, the Canadian's lips swollen and both of them breathless. He nodded, grabbing Lance's hand and guiding him to the bed.

Lance laughed breathlessly as his legs hit the mattress, but Fernando didn't give him a chance to steady himself. He pushed Lance back onto the bed, following him down without hesitation, their bodies tangling together as they landed in a heap of limbs and laughter.

Lance reached for Fernando again, pulling him down into another kiss — messy, rushed, teeth clashing before they found their rhythm again. His hands slid under Fernando's shirt, desperate to feel skin against skin. Fernando groaned into the kiss, hurriedly undoing the buttons of his white top and shrugging it off.

Lance’s fingers trembled as they trailed over Fernando’s chest, savoring the warmth of his skin and the firm muscle beneath his touch. He let out a shaky breath, eyes flicking up to meet Fernando’s gaze. The intensity there made his heart race — dark, smoldering, full of desire and something deeper, something Lance couldn’t quite name.

Fernando leaned in, his lips brushing along Lance’s jaw, then down to his neck, leaving a trail of slow, deliberate kisses. Lance tilted his head to give him more access, his hands sliding down to grip Fernando’s waist, pulling him closer.

“God,” Lance whispered, his voice catching as Fernando nipped at his collarbone before soothing the spot with his tongue. “You’re driving me crazy.”

“Good,” Fernando murmured against his skin, his accent thick, his voice low and rough. “Because you’ve been driving me insane since the moment I met you.”

Lance’s heart skipped at the confession, his fingers tightening their hold on Fernando. Their kisses grew slower, more deliberate, every touch electric. Fernando’s hands slid under Lance’s shirt, pushing it up, fingertips brushing over his ribs and making him shiver.

“Off,” Fernando whispered, tugging at the fabric.

Lance quickly complied, pulling the shirt over his head and tossing it aside. Fernando’s eyes raked over him, his gaze lingering on every inch of bare skin — though his eyes caught notice of the thin hebrew lettering just to the side of Lance's nipple. It made Lance’s cheeks flush, but he didn’t look away — couldn’t look away.

“You’re beautiful,” Fernando said softly, reverently, as if the words were a secret just for Lance.

Lance swallowed hard, his chest rising and falling with every breath. “So are you.”

Fernando smiled, his lips quirking up at the corners before he leaned in again, capturing Lance’s mouth in another kiss — deeper this time, slower. His hands wandered, exploring every curve and dip of Lance’s body, as if committing him to memory.

Lance arched into the touch, gasping when Fernando’s lips found his neck again, kissing and biting just enough to make him tremble. His fingers threaded through Fernando’s hair, tugging gently, earning a low groan that sent shivers down his spine.

Time seemed to blur — the only things Lance could focus on were Fernando’s touch, his warmth, and the way every kiss made him feel like he was falling, completely and utterly consumed by the man in front of him.

Lance’s fingers traced the lines of muscle on Fernando’s chest, marveling at the way his skin warmed under his touch. Fernando watched him with quiet intensity, his hands resting on Lance’s hips, thumbs stroking the exposed skin just above the waistband of his jeans.

"You’re staring," Lance whispered with a shy smile.

Fernando’s lips quirked into a smirk. "Can you blame me?"

Lance leaned down, pressing another kiss to Fernando’s lips — slow, lingering, full of unspoken emotions. He felt weightless, like the world outside didn’t exist. It was just them, tangled together in his bed, lost in each other.

Until the front door slammed.

"Lance? You home?"

Lance froze, his eyes wide with panic. "Shit. My dad!"

Fernando sat up quickly, steadying Lance with a firm grip on his waist. "Calm down."

"Calm down? Fernando, if he sees you —" Lance scrambled off the bed, grabbing his shirt and pulling it on in a hurry. "He’ll freak the hell out!"

"Language," Fernando stood, slipping on and buttoning his shirt with calm precision. "We’ll handle it."

"Handle it?" Lance hissed, pacing the room. "You’re my professor! He’s already skeptical about me bringing you up so much. If he sees you here —"

Fernando crossed the room in a few strides, placing a hand on Lance’s shoulder. "Trust me."

There was a knock at the door. "Lance? I heard you moving around. Are you okay?"

Lance swallowed hard, looking to Fernando, who gave him a reassuring nod before slipping into the closet. Lance took a deep breath and opened the door, forcing a smile.

"Hey, Dad. Yeah, I’m fine. Just… studying."

Lawrence raised an eyebrow. "Studying? You’ve never been this enthusiastic about your classes before."

Lance laughed nervously. "Business ethics is really… compelling."

Lawrence gave him a skeptical look before stepping inside, glancing around the room. "What’s that smell?"

Lance’s heart raced. "Uh… scented candle. Helps me focus."

Lawrence narrowed his eyes, clearly not buying it, but thankfully, he didn’t push further. "All right. Dinner’s in an hour. Don’t be late."

"Got it," Lance said quickly, ushering his dad out of the room.

The moment the door closed, Fernando stepped out of the closet, straightening his shirt. "That was close."

Lance groaned, collapsing onto the bed. "Too close."

Fernando chuckled, sitting beside him. "He’s gone. You’re fine."

Lance peeked up at him, still flushed. "What if he figures it out?"

Fernando leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to Lance’s forehead. "I'll figure it out, I've got you Lancito."

Lance’s heart swelled at the words, and he couldn’t help but smile. "You really mean that?"

"I’ve already taken the risk. You’re worth it." Fernando’s eyes softened before he started up again, "Also, you've mentioned me to your father?"

"Nando I— Sir—" Lance stumbled over his words, obviously embarrassed at the topic being brought back up.

Fernando couldn’t help but smirk at Lance’s flustered state, watching with amusement as the younger man sat up, running a hand through his hair in an attempt to compose himself.

"You called me Nando," Fernando teased, his voice low and warm. "And Sir? Interesting combination."

Lance groaned, burying his face in his hands. "I can’t believe this is happening."

Fernando chuckled, reaching out to gently pull Lance’s hands away from his face. "Relax, Lancito. I’m only teasing."

"But my dad—" Lance started, his brows furrowed with concern.

Fernando shook his head, his expression calm and confident. "Your father doesn’t scare me."

Lance snorted. "He scares me."

Fernando laughed softly, his thumb brushing over Lance’s cheek. "That’s because you are his son. He wants the best for you."

Lance sighed, leaning into the touch. "Yeah, well, I don’t think he’d consider this the best for me."

Fernando’s gaze softened. "Maybe not at first. But he’ll see it eventually."

"You really believe that?" Lance asked, his voice quiet.

"I do." Fernando tilted Lance’s chin up, their eyes locking. "And even if he doesn’t, it doesn’t change how I feel."

Lance’s heart raced at the sincerity in Fernando’s gaze. "How do you feel?"

"I have an hour to show you."

Lance’s eyes widened, his breath hitching at Fernando’s words — he couldn't seem to breathe normally around Fernando. The boldness of the statement sent a shiver down his spine. His lips parted, but no sound came out.

Fernando smirked, leaning in to brush his lips against Lance’s ear. "Unless, of course, you’re too scared."

That was all it took.

Lance grabbed Fernando’s collar, pulling him into a heated kiss. It wasn’t cautious like before — this was urgent, desperate. They didn't have time to waste. Their mouths moved together in perfect rhythm, all their pent-up tension finally unleashed. Lance’s hands slid down Fernando’s chest, feeling the muscle beneath his shirt before tugging it off again.

Fernando’s hands roamed Lance’s body, finding their way under his shirt and tracing over every inch of his skin. "You’re so fucking perfect," he murmured between kisses, his voice husky.

Lance blushed but didn’t stop. "You’ve got an hour, right? Better not waste it."

Fernando chuckled, his teeth grazing Lance’s lower lip before gently pulling him toward the bed. "Oh, I won’t."

They stumbled onto the mattress, Lance straddling Fernando as their kisses deepened. Lance’s shirt joined Fernando’s on the floor, followed quickly by the rest of their clothes, until nothing was between them but heat and skin.

Fernando’s fingers trailed down Lance’s spine, making him shiver. "I want to remember every inch of you," Fernando whispered, his lips brushing over Lance’s jaw, down his neck, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake.

Lance’s head fell back, a soft moan escaping him. "Then don’t stop."

Fernando didn’t.

He traced every curve, every freckle, every scar with his lips and hands, committing Lance to memory. Lance’s hands tangled in Fernando’s hair, tugging gently as their bodies moved together, finding a rhythm that was all their own.

Time seemed to blur as they lost themselves in each other. The world outside didn’t matter — not Lawrence, not their risks, not the consequences. Just them.

Finally, as they lay tangled together in the sheets, their breathing steadying, Lance ran a hand over Fernando’s chest, tracing the tattoo that marked his forearm as the tattoo on his back stayed in the back of his mind.

"I can’t believe this is real," Lance murmured.

Fernando smiled, pressing a kiss to Lance’s temple. "It is. And it’s ours."

Lance nestled closer, resting his head on Fernando’s shoulder. "You’re staying?"

Fernando nodded. "For as long as you’ll have me."

Lance smiled against his skin. "Then don’t go."

"I’m not going anywhere." Fernando wrapped his arms around Lance, holding him close before pulling back again, "but you're going to eat with your father."

(Next)

[neo91502]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TOMM TIREDSMASHBROS!!!

note for tomm under the read more... lalala💥💥 @tiredsmashbros

ohhh tomm. tomm tiredmashbros, oh do you even know what has happened this, what, past half a year and counting? There has been so, so much improvement these past few months, whether that was to be art or even being able to grow the confidence to actually make a discord server and how well it is and how active it is to this day!!! It’s genuinely felt like it’s been so long, but truly only has been maybe about. since september so like 4 months maybe of the discord server? and so much has happened since then.

Onto the actual much deeper depths of paragraphs, you genuinely have changed my life in ways that I don’t think I could even achieve. Many days on vc’s, joking about the most random things, to the (about) most unexpected things, late night vc’s, the silly sleepover vc’s (technically late night... but shhhh), your paragraphs here, your just genuinely amazing self and personality. Even if you’re just another person in this world, I think you’re some of the best among everyone that I could’ve had the pleasure of getting to meet and know you.

I always loved the times when we vced and went “hey it’d be funny if we watched this video” then did that or, mainly, plan ahead and all. The pikmin iceberg (even if i fell asleep. whoops.), isaacwhy ltlvc, epic the musical, and so much more probably HSJDNSJ. I’ll always remember the first vc I was in with you, or at least the one that I think is the first since I think we both were muted then eventually unmuted JSIDJSSJ I still don’t remember who was all there... i think it’s really funny that like 1-2 months after that, we vced so much and literally couldn’t remember who was there in the first vc JSAKJSKDJD i think that vc was when we had that silly “IM NOT A TYPER” or something i think... I DONT HAVE THE ORIGINAL IMAGE SAVED RN JAHDJDSJ 💔💔💔 and i sounded in such despair because it was like 1 or 2 am for me and i had to be quiet... I always absolutely LOVE our vc’s together, even if i’m caught, i typically don’t actually feel that bad since it’s just like. augh. i have no idea how to explain it💔💔 but yeah 💥💥💥 —> EDIT HERE... LTIERALLY TALKING TO YOU IN DMS AND YOU LITERALY HAVE JT ON HAND. THE IM NOT A TYPER. BROOOOO IM GONNA GET YOU

The surprise you gave me for my birthday and the fact that you did an entire PARTY IN THE SERVER ???? dude i was genuinely so gobsmacked, even if i was late to it NSKDNSKAJA... there was so much going on, i’ll be so fr i literally can barely remember it other than you asking my favroite scene and saying flowerfield sunset and then some bit later you surprised me with the fanart of neo like GUH?????? oh my GOS AJAJSNSNbut even just the MERE IDEA of having a birthday party and the fact that you wanted to do one for me was so surprising and i’m so genuinely hyped for yours like GUH. I’m so HSJSNSJSJSKSKNDJD

as you already know, the drawing above took about 12 hours and 30 minutes to fully finish. honestly, to my first fanart of tsb to this one is just amazing and i wouldn’t be able to see such improvement if it weren’t for you, for your amazing lore of tsb (i will yap about this later...), stealing some of your silly techniques here and there, and so much more. i’m just. baffled at the thought of being here with your birthday today.

oh and your ART. oh my GOODNESS. Where do i even START. for one, i know for a FACT i have stolen silly little things out of your style because of how unique and silly it is and how i do this with all of my friends because i genuinely appreciate and love everything that everyone makes,,, i especially LOVE, oh my goodness do i LOVE how you do your coloring and shading. it’s so unique in a way that works so damn well with how you do your lines, whether it’s sketchy or not, the outlines, everything bro. the rendering gets me the most. you WITNESSED me STRUGGLE to recreate it because i really wanted to try out and do a piece more in your style of things!! i do want to say it had been actually so fun doijg that... i should do it again lalalala... BUT ANYWASY!!!!! i’ve always just. oh my god. LOVE and just BUSHSURHEJSNA i just love how do you comics bro,.... no matter if they’re the ones like your final or the ones like the memories tsb lore... and especially the SPEED YOU GET THESE DONE AT ???? BRO IM SO JEALOUS IN THE BEST WAY POSSINLE... i don’t think i’ll ever stop looking up to you bro...

and now the lore. oh my Lore. Lore lore lore lore . im gonna gET YOUUUUUUU. i’m so INVESTED in tsb’s lore... the creation of this whole universe with cartoony characteristics (it’s literally just. HOW DO I EXPLIJA IT ITS BASISLY LIKE JUST A CARTOON WHDJSNS AND I LOVE IT), pipedream, watchman, the mysterious feeling, the character development. bro EVERYHTING. i cant BELEIVE you hide so much shit in the tiniest things, make entire comics out of what look like such simple asks but no your ass is over here producing COMICS for this bro..... i’m so jealous oh my GOD...... there’s so much i can think of but it feels so little of what we actually know (confirmed) so far... also i see you editing the playlist... your ass is NOT SLICK!!!

comsider all of these paragraphs and everything i’ve said to you already in vc as revenge for all the genuine most kindest paragraphs i’ve read in my life in the reblogs of tsb fanart... guh.... also off topic from this, i realized this is the first time you’ll see me draw emmet oh my god....

i’m so sure i have more to say but my ass actually cant think of anything brooooo.... maybe i’ll send you paragraphs in dms when i think of it and actually remember it GUH.... OH OH WAIT WAIT ALL THE JOKES THAT WE’VE MADE. dude i’m always just being so silly in vc and i think it’s really silly and comedic when you’re over there making silly little doodles and i just go “you should draw tsmg4/smg4 with long hair/smg34” or other alike things.... i don’t think i’ll also ever live down the times when i fell asleep on vc and you were there for i think all of them except maybe 1 ? i have no clue... bro your voice genuinely so calming i’m gonna fall asleep again some day 😭😭

okay enough yapping about that i THINK...., when I first found you, it was literally from the lipbite part 1 comic 😭😭 and i was like “oh hey, i actually kind of really like this person’s art!!” so yk. i followed you!!! if i told my past self that i’d be sitting here right now, typing all of this out, they wouldnt believe me. I’m genuinely just so baffled at the mere thought of being here and being able to call you a friend. hell. i’d even say best friends / close friends bro... i cannot even fathom the thought of that in the past, yet, here i am, able to call you a friend that i talk to about regularly i’d say.

I want to say it again; Happy birthday Tomm, I hope you have one of the best birthdays in your life and thank you for everything.

-Neo 💙

also,,, here’s a silly meme

part 1 of 2 ... i mean. who said that!!!!

[midyearflowers]

come to toronto! we have:

endless streams of pedestrians

cyclists that materialize out of nowhere going 30km/h

construction thats been going on since before you were born

left turns so sharp you might as well have made a u-turn

and much more confusing and inconvenient things!

[desomniis]

Pre-wedding photoshoot for their very gay, Ferrari-themed, wedding

[clownsuu]

Sometimes I wonder what’s going on inside that lil head of his, just full of no thoughts,,, (just like me fr fr)

[crystalpallette]

so I finished side order recently

[lovesickeros]

☆ even the gods bleed [ pt 4 ]

{☆} characters arlecchino, furina, lyney {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, multi-chapter, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings blood {☆} word count 3.7k {☆} previous [ 1 ] [ 2 ] [ 3 ]

Fontaine was bathed in darkness, not even the moon daring to illuminate where the common man fears to walk. The streets were bleak and empty save for the constant, rhythmic ticking and clanking of machines marching on endlessly, dauntlessly wading where even the bravest dared not to venture. Not even the sharp click of the Gardes boots followed the occasional hisses of steam as they walked the barren streets.

It was haunting, and it'd been like that for days now. It showed little signs of stalling in the slightest, too. Every inch of Fontaine was practically crawling with Gardemeks– like a swarm of rats skittering about.

Arlecchino had secluded herself in the Hotel Bouffes d'ete for days at this point, waiting– biding her time. Her nails clicked against the wood as she tapped at the table in a stilted rhythm, the subtle click of the clock mixing into the clanking outside, weaving in and out of earshot as the patrols slipped by. She reached forward after a moment of thought, reaching for the white king.

She leaned back against the chaise, tilting her head just enough to catch a glimpse of a patrol of Gardemeks as they vanished behind the rows and rows of buildings. It wasn't enough to keep her attention for long, however, her features twisting in disinterest as she glanced back to the chessboard– and the letter neatly resting beside it. The seal was unmistakable and a sobering sight, demanding her attention– the soft hues of blue etched into the shape of a dragon stared back at her in a way that almost unsettled her.

She had already parsed through it's contents hundreds of times, but she was met with only vague, flowing script that only served to irritate her more then anything– it filled the page top to bottom yet managed to say nothing at all. Her hand reached out again, but instead of reaching for the letter she plucked the black rook from the board, setting it down with a soft click.

Arlecchino had all the time in the world to sit back and observe her prey, but all that time would be useless if she lacked the information to act.

And he was quite tight fisted about it, evidentially. None of her inquiries or attempts to decipher any potential codes in the letter left her empty handed. She could not act without even knowing the reason for his summons– it was almost worded like a personal affair rather then one would expect for a foreign diplomat. In truth, she'd expected a scalding report on her operatives, but it lacked any mention of anything of the sort.

She was no stranger to people masking hostility behind pretty words and compliments, not that it was ever unwarranted per se– the Fatui did not create connections through honesty and genuine kindness. They have strong armed more then their fair share of people into cooperation to the point distrust is all the Fatui are met with outside of Snezhnaya. Every word was meant to conceal the deceit, every action meant to conceal the price later paid.

So she had been..skeptical of the letter, to put it lightly. She doubted the Iudex of all people would offer a hand to the Fatui without a price attached– a trap, perhaps, meant to lure in the most powerful piece left on the board. Her eyes narrowed, reaching for a white rook and moving it to the right.

Or he was hiding something. Something that he simply couldn't risk getting out to anyone, not even the Divine themself. A tempting prize, whatever it was.

..A dangerous prize, too.

She'd considered burning the letter and forgetting it all together– the risk was great, and she couldn't risk getting caught up by whoever else the Iudex may have on his side of the board. But she could hardly pass up the challenge and the prize that he fought so hard to keep from prying eyes and ears. Even her agents came back empty handed each time. She lazily picked up a black rook, sliding the white pawn aside.

"Lyney," Arlecchino drawled, crossing one leg over the other and turning her gaze to the door as it slowly creaked open. The pale visage of Lyney stepped through, though his siblings were noticeably absent. The weariness that weighed down on his shoulders was apparent in the slightest furrow of his brows and the subtle creak of leather as he clenched his fists behind his back. "Father." He choked out, the title dragged out by the sharp inhale and shaky exhale.

He looked out of breath, she noted.

The silence that lingered after the small exchange was punctuated only by the click of another chess piece being moved. She sets aside the black rook, letting it sit among the dozen other pieces that had been wiped off the board. She can see the conviction glinting beneath the fog of exhaustion, but if he would utilize it was another matter all together.

He had seemed to make his choice quickly, at the very least.

"Our contacts and operatives within the Fortress of Meropide have gone silent– all we have is their final confirmed missive.." His voice is confident, but it is rigid as the words spill from his lips. He takes a sharp step forward, unfolding his arms from behind his back and opening his hands– the small, water stained and messily folded note catches her eye, plucking it from his palms with a half hearted interest. "They believe the Duke left the Fortress of Meropide..and that he may be coming to the Court of Fontaine."

Her eyes narrow dangerously, nearly crumpling the thin paper in her hands– yet just as quickly, she collects herself.

But she cannot get rid of the bitter taste on her tongue, lingering as she sets down the note and slides it to the side, her lips pursed into a thin line.

So the Iudex had shown one of his pieces..she tightly grasps a black rook, tipping over the white rook, letting it roll against the board.

If the Duke was involved, things were much more complicated then she expected– he would be a problem, she was certain. She couldn't blame the lamb for fearing the wolf, either. Whether her agents had been killed or captured by the man mattered little. He had his ways, and he was a force that could instill fear in even them.

Which meant the possibility that her operation was already compromised was far too real.

What had the Iudex so concerned he had gone through the trouble of bringing in the Duke and herself? The Fatui was one thing, but to specifically request one of it's Harbingers..

The Prophecy? The thought had her clenching her fist, but..no. If it were to rear it's head now, the Iudex could simply not afford to waste time on his contacts deciphering his nonsensical script– If the prophecy were to be the issue, there time would be limited to mere minutes in the worst of cases. Which meant it was worth biding his time in order to ensure absolute secrecy.

So if not the prophecy, then what?

Her next moves were..limited. She was already walking on eggshells considering her position and the reputations of the Fatui– especially with a Harbinger in the midst. If they caught wind of her operations, they'd weed out her operatives and be on guards for any snakes that lingered in their garden.

She reached for the chessboard again, picking up one of the white rooks from the board with a scowl. The sharp click as she sets down the white rook and sets aside the black pawn draws a shaky inhale from Lyney as she moves another black pawn, the dull click of the pieces drowning out the distant clinking of machines.

..A draw, perhaps.

The pieces were all falling into place– the players of this game were slowly being revealed. Whether she could secure her victory..she was unsure.

She wasn't even sure who her opponent was. Only that the Iudex himself was but another piece in their game.

Arlecchino reached for the board again, yet this time she hesitated. Perhaps she could still swipe the win from beneath them, if she played her cards right.

She would simply have to capture the king– or, if need be, let it end on a draw. Either way, she would not concede. She could not afford to concede. Down to the last piece, she would drag out this match until she was in a position to force their hand into the outcome she desired.

She stood slowly, picking up the king piece and observing it for only the briefest of moments before she set it down on the table, taking measured steps around the table and across the room. She was hunting a much more dangerous quarry today– it would be no simple runaway traitor this time.

"Do you remember the directive?" She inquired coldly, her hand lingering on the door for that long, tense moment. "..Yes, Father." Lyney faltered, taking a hesitant step back and bowing at the waist. "Then do not stray."

All that was left was the silence and click of the door shutting behind her as she disappeared down the hall, her boots clicking harshly against the floorboards. The rest of the agents knew better then to linger in her path as she stepped down into the lobby, adjusting the cuffs of her sleeves. She barely even acknowledged the Fatui agent standing at the ready by the heavyset doors, their gloves hands held out with her cloak held loosely in their palms. She quickly snagged it from them, tugging it over her board shoulders and clasping it around her throat.

With a quick tug, she brought the hood up over her head to conceal her sharp features, lifting her hand and placing a neatly folded note within their waiting hands. She had only one chance to make the right moves and secure her victory– no matter the cost.

Each piece had it's purpose.

Oft, that purpose was a bloody and horrible end– but for the grand goal of the Fatui built on the backs of the dead, it was an honor.

She didn't bother speaking a word as she dismissed them with a wave of her hand, pushing open the heavyset doors and stepping out into the barren, damp streets. The rhythmic clink and whir of Gardemeks was still distant– she needed to move. Her boots clicked and splashed in the rain soaked stone of the streets as she slithered between the buildings, ducking through the openings in the patrols.

It was almost too easy.

She tilted her head back, taking in the towering Palais Mermonia with a scowl, her hands clenched into fists. The final moves were being played– the king was within her reach, yet she felt no more confident then when she began.

The air carried a sense of unease, thick and heavy, filling her lungs until she felt her breath still in her chest– listening to the empty, bleak night that seemed so..quiet.

She'd done her fair share of research, had more then her fair share of her agents try to peer into the Iudex's office or the Archon's supposedly hidden chambers, but every attempt was a failure. She had to give them credit, they were quite elusive when they wished to be. Though now she only thought about it bitterly– this was all a risky gamble, in the end, and only time would tell if it paid off.

With minimal effort, she'd managed to pull herself to the flat, tiled roof, eyeing the massive tower peaking out of the center cautiously. At least here the wandering patrols down below weren't likely to notice her..she could hear them passing by the spot she'd been in only a few minutes ago, just beneath her. She pulled the hood further over her face, peering through the sheer darkness of the night for any oddities, but it was almost impossible to see in the dark.

Her boots clicked softly against the tiles as she approached the tower jutting out from the Palais, her hand gliding along the smooth stone, pressing against odd indents or crevices. If it was for the Archon's chambers, she doubted they made it very difficult– she'd only met the woman once, but she doubted the Iudex make it all that complex just from a brief glance. And it surprised her little when one of the stones sunk into the wall, gears whirring as the walls split open to reveal a stairwell straight into an inky black hall. Only the barest hint of light peaked under the door at the bottom, but it's occupants must have heard her, considering it went out not a moment later.

She cautiously stepped down into the small crevice, her breath visible in the bitter cold air– her shoulders tensed at the subtle sound of muffled footsteps behind the door, her vision flaring with a molten heat between her shoulder blades as she reached for the worn handle of the door. The heat of her vision was enough to just barely heat the metal, her vision flaring like a quickly building inferno.

Arlecchino was prepared for a fight, if it came down to it.

The door creaked as she pressed against it, shoving it open with a grunt of effort and surveying the room with narrowed eyes and a biting remark on the tip of her tongue– the lavish opulence was expected, she supposed, but the lack of the towering figure of the Iudex was not.

Yet before she could get a word in or even take in her surroundings properly, the light flickered back on and she had to squeeze her eyes shut with a hiss at the sudden brightness. She could hear the door being shoved closed behind her, the hurried footsteps retreating just as quickly as her eyes adjusted to the light.

..This was a joke, wasn't it? It had to be.

She'd expected the Iudex, perhaps even the Duke if she'd been unlucky, not the Hydro Archon. She had half the mind to test her worth as an Archon then and there, her temper flaring like an uncontrollable blaze, barely kept at bay. It took all her self control to force herself to smile politely at the woman rather then snarl.

"Miss Furina," She sneered beneath her hood, x shaped pupils locked onto the startled, trembling Archon with thinly veiled contempt. "What a..pleasant surprise. You'll have to forgive my manners, I assumed I was meeting with the Iudex." She observed her body language carefully– the way her eyes darted about like a frightened rabbit seeking escape, the slightest tremble of her lips..

Arlecchino opened her mouth to offer another scathing remark, but her jaw audibly clicked shut as her entire body seemed to lock up. Even her vision went cold against her back, a chilling feeling creeping up her spine as someone, or something, crept up behind her. Their footsteps were almost silent, the slight rustling of their clothes the only thing she could hear over her heart pounding against her ribcage.

Arlecchino had always prided herself on being on the other end of that sensation– she was the monster, and her target was the prey frozen like a deer between the hunters crosshair.

It was a chilling feeling to have the dynamic shifted on it's head.

She couldn't even swallow, her jaw clenched so hard she could hear it creak as she tried to reason with her quickly splintering mind– a futile effort, her joints locking up almost painfully. Black spots were quickly swallowing her vision from the lack of air in her lungs, the sound of shuffling behind her barely audible over the ringing in her ears.

For a moment – a moment too long to have only lasted the seconds that it did, yet so quick it gave her whiplash – she thought she would hit the floor dead before she could even glimpse her assailant.

And then it was gone. She came crashing back into reality with a startled inhale, her lungs burning and her knees nearly buckling under her. The instinct to lash out and kill whoever had done it was intense, yet she couldn't bring herself to move even a finger– it would be so easy to twist around and ignite them with searing flames, but her feet were rooted in place.

She almost didn't notice the surprisingly gentle hands unclasping her cloak, tugging it off her shoulders, if not for the sheer intensity of the presence still lingering behind her. Her mind was still fractured, struggling to right itself after the ordeal, and it had her seething.

"..Are you certain you held back enough?" Furina croaked, the normally soft lilt raspy and almost hoarse. "Not– not that I doubt your capability, most Divine!"

Arlecchino felt her nails dig harshly into her palms, heat swelling beneath her skin– Divine? Had she lost her mind? The Divine was..

The Divine was upon their throne where they belonged. She'd seen them!

"Hm. Well, maybe? Sorry, I didn't think it'd affect you too." Their voice was sickeningly soft as they stepped around her like she wasn't even there, focusing their attention on the Archon who seemed more then delighted about it. "What gave you that impression, most Divine? Aha, I..was completely unaffected, as you can see! Perfectly fine."

Furina let out a small squeak when they pinched her cheek, but the almost affectionate smile that tugged at their lips revealed the lack of malice behind the action.

"You're a bad liar, Furina. You might want to sit down..please?" They didn't take her protests for an answer, gently pushing her to sit on the bed before abruptly turning to face Arlecchino once more, a forced smile on their lips. "Oh, good, you're..uh, not dead. That's good. I thought I fried your brain. Sorry?"

..Had she hit her head on the way here? The Divine should still be on their throne, yet she couldn't shake the weight of their stare– it felt tangible. She felt like she was standing face to face with the stars– galaxies and constellations bearing down upon her.

She grit her teeth and clenched her hands until she felt the sting of her nails against her palms, grounding herself in the pain through the sheer overwhelming nature of their existence.

"You.." She croaks, reaching out with a shaky hand and grabbing them by the collar of their shirt, lifting them up until their feet left the floor– she pays no mind to the startled protests of the Archon. Arlecchino would crush her like a bug before she even got the chance to intervene and they both knew it. "You shouldn't exist– you aren't them, and yet you..you're the imposter, aren't you?" Her grip tightens yet they face her without an ounce of fear, meeting her unyielding glare with a pondering look.

Arlecchino wanted to make them bleed just to see if she could, the urge to sink her teeth into skin welling up in her chest to the point she visibly snarled, her mask of politeness long . "You're the imposter." Her expression falls for a moment before she schools it into one of apathy, setting them back down and holding them there for a moment, finally releasing them after a tense moment. "Or you were supposed to be."

Hers brows furrow– she wants to demand answers, to throttle them for damning them to being nothing more then dolls for the supposed Divine to break at their whim, but none of the words come to her.

"..Why now? The current Divine has been in power for years, yet you descend now?" Her shoulders tensed, lips pursed into a thin line– it's impossible to ignore the truth that lay before her. The Divine is a fraud and this..imposter is the true Divine. How many years had they been in power, now? How many years were they waiting? Why did they wait? Was the suffering of Teyvat not enough? Was the blood that painted the steps of their stolen throne not enough?

She'd personally been on the wrong end of the Divine's wrath– she wonders..had they watched? Had they seen the cruel hand of their imposter and turned their back on Teyvat?

"I.." They hesitated. It made her seethe, her hands clenching into fists at her sides– her vision flickered, flames swelling within it's casing just to be smothered by the presence of the Divine. But once that spark had been lit, she refused to let it go out. "I didn't know."

The answer does not satisfy her. There is an itch beneath her skin that she cannot scratch, a fire that burns in her chest so hot it scorches even herself.

"And what about now? Are you content to cower like prey in the safety of the Palais Mermonia?" She snapped, taking a step forward, her brows furrowed and her glare intense– she can see the slightest bit of worry in their eyes. She revels in it. "Will you let them use your acolytes like pawns? How many more need to be broken on the steps to your throne before you act?"

Again, her vision flares and dims– it refuses to be used against the Divine that created it.

"Have you no answer?"

The room is silent. They do not speak and neither does she.

Even the world itself seems to quiet in the face of her accusations, fury boiling to the surface so hot it incinerated all it touched.

"I will kill them myself."

Their words are quiet, but they are not soft– there is a vindictive, searing anger that explodes out like dying stars within their eyes. The sight of constellations replaced by a void that would not be . The smell of ichor grows stronger– to the point she feels almost lightheaded.

"..I am aware that I have failed in preventing this, but I had no choice in the matter. Still," They muse, their voice like the tolling of bells. A solemn melody that stills the swelling fury burning in her chest, if only for a moment. "I will rectify it– I will tear down their throne of lies and let not even the earth tarnish itself by burying their corpse among it's soil."

They pause for a moment, holding out their hand– scarred and bandaged by the weapons of the devout, yet still they take upon the burden of dirtying their hands to save those who did not save them.

"Do you trust me, Arlecchino?"

Did she?

"Will you help me?"

She exhales heavily, meeting the starry iris' of the Divine with a scowl still tugging at her lips. Arlecchino trusted no one but herself.

"..Yes."

[danikatze]

[Video description under the cut]

When I was in art school I used to make lots of these "doodle" (aka scratchy/messy without a plan) animations in my spare time and I somehow just sat down and started one last week!

It was super fun, just started drawing Masa with his hair untied and trying to figure out what he was looking at! I happened to have a very-post-canon-hc about Matsu and Yaichi bonding while Masa is away on a trip, and Masa being thrilled to find out when he comes back :3

[Video description: a scratchy animation of Matsu, Masa and Yaichi from House of Five Leaves. They are all shown from the chest up in three quarter's view, apparently sitting down.

Matsu is shown first, facing right. He is writing or drawing, but then stops to look to the left. After a moment he smiles, then returns to his work, still smiling.

Masa is shown second. His body is turned to the left, but he looks to the right, at Matsu, with a bit of a confused expression. He turns his head to the left, but holds Matsu with his gaze for a bit, before fully looking to the left.

Next, Yaichi is shown. He has a cup of hot tea in his hand but seems distracted by something in front of him. He seems to stare at Matsu, smiling, then glances to his left and meets Masa's gaze. Yaichi's eyes go a little unfocused and he smiles dreamily before he takes a sip of his tea.

Masa is shown again, still looking confused, but something seems to dawn on him. He blinks and smiles excitedly. /End video description]

[gorgynei]

ive said it before and ill say it again, but enid sinclair in wednesday is soooo fun as a werewolf mostly because she goes against all genre standards for werewolves!!! werewolves are so often relegated to just one of a couple categories:

the genre standard werewolf protagonist. probably broody, fighting with their nature, and dies a tragic death.

the antagonist werewolves. oftentimes comes with a twist reveal. they always die, probably at the hands of the protagonist.

The Beast. hardly even a character, basically just a monster. likely not shown out of wolf form much, if at all.

there are other movies with werewolves that fall outside of these of course, but they're the three most common (arguably). HOWEVER. werewolf fiction as a genre en total has a pretty grim tone with a focus on horror/tension. even the most genre defying characters (ginger fitzgerald, for example) fit within that tone

BUT ENID DOESN'T !!! wednesday is a show with a relatively dark tone, but not at all in the same way as typical werewolf fiction. and especially not when it comes to enid or her being a werewolf!!! plus, enid looks nothing like any other werewolves in any other stories.

shes COLOURFUL!!!! shes bubbly, sweet, and the only thing she laments about being a werewolf is that her parents put pressure on her about it. its great

sorry to werewolf purists but i think that they should get to have fun and be teenage girls and they should get to live. we deserve more werewolves that get to be werewolves in a fun way. even just as a palette cleanser

[its-short-for-jackalope]

Drawing request drawing request! If u’d like, can u do Holloduke/Holloweane? If not that, then maybe Chumby, the Hatchetfield Ape-Man with Willabella Muckwab. Put ‘em in a room together and see what happens haha!

Just run away with me, [I] won't feel so alone

[plushie-lovey]

FINALLY!! At long last, I've gotten my hands on a Pumpkin Kitty, after a whole year of wanting and waiting.

Her name is Latte! (Short for Miss Pumpkin Spice Latte) You can also call her Miss Spice!

[i-may-be-an-emu]

first sfth edit (first edit at all actually) :)

Audio/Music credit: Jeremy Shada “Will they, won’t they”

Visuals Credit: Shoot From The Hip (@shootimpro on most platforms, mainly Luke and Sam appear in this video)

Made with CapCut.